


The One Where Keith Infiltrates a Dating Show

by keefffff



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Fluff and Humor, Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Is Trying, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Kinda, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Photographer Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Secret Identity, Tattoo Artist Keith (Voltron), like in all my other fics keith is a creative cusser, very little angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keefffff/pseuds/keefffff
Summary: Unexpected Sightsis the revolutionary (not really) new dating show that tests just how “blind” love is, but what most don’t know is that the producers of the show have taken a more underhanded approach to drama: have a dude take the place of one of the girls....without the guys knowing that there is the possibility they are falling in love with another man.Keith thinks it’s a fucking terrible idea, a recipe for bigotry, homophobia, for disaster. He thinks that someone or everyone is going to end up hurt. When Shiro approaches him to fill the position-with the hopes that Keith can subvert some of the ensuing damage-Keith reluctantly agrees while also resolving himself to being so unlikable that no one will be horribly tricked and so that he himself will avoid any sort of heartbreak. The latter half of this seemed like it was going to be easy… until it was Lance McClain sitting on the other side of the wall.TLDR: Keith attempts to act like the world’s most unappealing dating show participant but falls in love instead.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 73
Kudos: 217





	1. In Which Keith Regrets His Association With Shiro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At _first_ it had sounded like a stereotypically heteronormative reality tv show. 20 dudes, 20 gals (gals?), and _love_. 
> 
> But wait- there was a catch: the contestants of this show would never see each other, only talk. In this show, race, looks and … other features associated with appearance wouldn’t matter.
> 
> Keith supposed the creators fancied themselves _original_ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shhhh, ignore me starting a new fic with one still running (u shld check that out too tho... ;)). this is a little bit less magic, sci fi centered than the rest of my stuff obvi
> 
> really i just wanted a dating show fic with two reluctant and bickering participants who fall in love while mocking everyone else at the same time, and when i cldn't find it- i did it myself

Keith Kogane would die for his brother. He knew it, his brother knew it, pretty much anyone who had ever met, spoken to, or heard of him knew it. Now, looking back, that was Keith’s first mistake. But hindsight's 20/20 and all that crap. 

Really he should have known that one day having someone really close to you would come to bite him in the ass, he just never thought his moment of great regret would come in a coffee shop. 

But here he was, a recent college graduate sitting across from the man he called his brother, staring at him with narrowed eyes and questioning everything that had brought him to this moment.

Said brother was waiting patiently, calm despite the other boy’s scrutiny. 

Finally, Keith broke. “I will do no such thing!” He exclaimed, his voice shrill and tinted with heavy indignation. “Why would I ever- why would you ever ask such- no!” Growing restless he lifted his leg up to fold it onto the chair, wiggling slightly till it felt more comfortable before giving up completely and bringing his leg back down to bounce up and down on the floor once more. “No!”

Shiro sighed heavily, his face apologetic as he winced at Keith’s incredulous spluttering. “Look, Keith, we’re really running on a time crunch here and I think you’d be perfect for the job-“ Irritation sparked in his stomach as he recognized his older brother’s placating tone which he only used when he was afraid Keith was going to run.

“Perfect,” Keith deadpanned. “On what _planet_ am I perfect for this job?” The last part came out more like a hiss than he had intended.

“Ok so maybe perfect is a stretch-“ Shiro amended with a little titled bob of his head, ignoring Keith’s loud scoff. “But I’m in a bit of a bind here, I could really use your help- stop huffing it's true.”

Silence descended upon the duo as Keith once again narrowed his eyes, reaching towards his cup and muttering about the drink being a bribe. Over the lid, he glared at his brother who seemed fairly nonplussed, apparently unintimidated by the intense stare. He sighed tiredly once again, something that Keith found distinctly annoying at that moment. Dramatically slamming his paper cup onto the table, causing the hot beverage to spill out of the lid’s small hole and burn his hand ever so slightly, Keith spoke once again. “Don’t act like you're asking me to stop by the market for milk.” 

“I know, I know it’s a lot to ask, but... please?”

There was a moment of silent communication between the two brothers as Shiro made pleading faces from his seat. Keith collapsed forward, his eyes closed, arms stretched out across the table and forehead pressed against the wood. Having sensed this movement, Shiro had lifted up his coffee out of the way and now brought it to his lips. Keith made no move to respond. 

“Please?” 

The younger boy groaned loudly, opening his eyes and bringing his head up to rest his chin on the table while reaching for his hot chocolate once more. “You really can't find anyone else? You have tons of friends.” The last part seemed like a needless addition but he had already said it so- 

Shiro leaned forward, sensing Keith’s reluctant weakening to his pleas. “None who would be comfortable with this type of thing. Besides, you know I trust you the most considering you’re my brother.”

The heavy glare directed at Shiro could do little to disguise Keith’s light flush of happiness at Shiro’s last words. He knew very well what the older man was doing. Unfortunately, knowing did not ensure immunity. “Objectively,” Keith said. “I’m going to be bad at this.”

“Nonsense.”

“Ok, shut the fuck up, I know you’re lying. I can’t talk to people on my own, much less talk to them while pretending to be a girl!” He had raised his voice slightly too high apparently because other patrons of the cafe had turned towards him, their faces the picture of confusion and judgement. _Oops_.

Apparently unsympathetic of Keith’s embarrassment, Shiro just rolled his eyes. “You can talk to people just fine, you just refuse to. Also can you please sit up, you’re short enough as it is.”

Keith waved his arm dismissively, his chin still resting on the wood. “First, fuck you. Second, exactly! I choose not to talk to people because they bother me so what makes you think I’m ready to do this.”

“Oh yeah, sure,” Shiro said. “ _That’s_ why you don’t talk to people.” The sarcasm was tangible. 

“I hate you, you know that right.”

“Look! You won’t even have to use your own voice, they won’t even see you, and you’d kinda be there to cause issues and stir drama. That pretty much gives you an excuse to do whatever you want free of camera judgement. Besides you don’t really care what strangers think so-“

Drawing his eyebrows in with faux offense, Keith nodded. “Oh, so I’m perfect for the job because I am willing to be an asshole for money. Way to flatter me, my self confidence is just sky rocketing.”

“Keith, you are so-” Shiro groaned, reaching to his head to grab a fistful of hair and pull at it with distress.

“Charming? Cool? Tell me if I’m anywhere in the ballpark. Wait- does it begin with the letter c?”

“... difficult.”

Keith shook his head morosely. “Ouch, didn't even begin with a c.”

When Shiro had shot Keith a text asking if he wanted to meet at their local coffee shop, Keith hadn’t given it much thought. After all it wasn't the first lunch break they had taken together. But upon entering the coffee shop, Keith had immediate reason to be suspicious. Shiro had already bought their beverages, and when he spotted Keith across the crowded room he had immediately moved to stand up, waiting till the younger of the two sat down before he sat down. 

It wasn’t long before Keith’s worries were confirmed, and within ten minutes of their break Shiro was practically begging for his little brother's help while blatantly attempting to keep him calm- these attempts doing little beyond irritating said brother.

Takashi Shirogane was a rising star in the television industry. Not as an actor- he was too humble and disliked public attention (despite naturally attracting people)- but as a producer.

 _Apparently,_ he had recently joined the production crew of a new project because the people working on it were “geniuses” or something. 

It had taken a solid five minutes for him to finally reveal what this project was- five minutes of various excuses and “I swear I’m just doing it to work with *insert name here*”. That phrase had actually been used multiple times. 

It was a dating show.

Naturally, Keith had thought his brother had been joking. It wasn’t really Shiro’s _thing_. 

The more and more Shiro described it, the worse it sounded.

 _Unexpected Sights_ \- that's what it was called. 

At _first_ , the title hadn't really made any sense. Even when it did, even when Keith “got it”, he still thought it was a dumb fucking name.

At _first_ it had sounded like a stereotypically heteronormative reality tv show. 20 dudes, 20 gals (gals?), and _love._

But wait- there was a catch: the contestants of this show would never see each other, only talk. In this show, race, looks and … other features associated with appearance wouldn’t matter.

Keith supposed the creators fancied themselves _original_. 

Needless to say, he thought it was a stupid idea- who can fall in love in a setting like that?

Even if it was going to be “longer” and there would be voice modifiers to avoid any sort of attraction playing any sort of a role (he could already tell this show took itself way too seriously), it just wasn’t natural.

 _Besides,_ it was just gonna be a whole lot of attractive people anyway so was there really any worry?

Personally, reality tv show people were never really his type, the girls were pretty sure but unfortunately the ones he preferred to stare at (aka the men) never really fit his bill. Way too many had facial hair which wasn’t _bad per se_ but why they _all had it_ was beyond him. Did casters put this as a requirement? They also always had similar bone structure.

Keith understood what they were going for: handsome, charming, unexpectedly romantic _, swoonworthy._ The whole suit wearing-square jawed-Prince Charming-shebang. Except really most were just sorta boring and played the “all the women want me but I can't find love” card far too often for Keith’s tastes. 

For an introverted gay orphan- these people didn’t seem real, or at least they didn’t seem _fun._ It wasn't that Keith thought himself particularly _unique,_ or god forbid, _quirky,_ after all he was a tattoo artist and wore ripped jeans and oversized sweatshirts and watched anime in his free time. 

These just weren't his people.

But even if they weren’t his type it was still annoying that these people claimed to be advancing the definition of love, eliminating the pressure of looks when he had zero doubts in his mind that they would be good looking, not his type but good looking. _Zero doubts._

 _Unexpected Sights_ was set to last much longer than most dating shows at a little under two months.

The studio was going _all out_ for this show and Keith didn’t really understand _why._ It seemed like a normal show to him, or at least until Shiro sent a flaming curveball aimed for his head by admitting that the high production costs and budget resulted in a strong desire to take full advantage of voice modification and “blind love” by essentially fucking with everyone on the show.

The solution had been rather unexpected.

Shiro claims that it had been a joke at first, an offhand comment made by Jerry the intern who had been passing out coffee. But that was all it took, a simple “imagine if you fell in love with a girl and then it was like a dude.”

So here he was, asking Keith of all people to _pretend to be a woman on reality tv_.

See the way the show worked is that by the end of two long months of talking through walls, the men would reveal who they “fell for” and “propose”. The girl would give her answer, emerge and either embrace her soon to be husband, look at him with disgust, cry because he looks at her with disgust, or apologize to a heartbroken, recently rejected, and now most likely embarrassed man.

If she does not accept the proposal, the woman will return to the room in hopes of the man she loves proposing. 

Another aspect of the show that was… quite different, was what happened after. In true television style there would be a two week period after the proposals to see how the couples manage. But during this period, the women who did not get engaged were required to confess to the men they had hoped would propose. Even if that man was engaged.

Keith found it to be a little sadistic. 

Requiring a romantic confession in the bylines of a contract sure didn't sound like the beginning of love to him.

Clearly the crew wanted drama. Required confessions from rejected women? Nervous reveals after a nervous proposal? _A fucking man pretending to be a woman?_

_The entire show was a recipe for disaster._

According to the man himself, Shiro and the other people of this dumb production had struggled immensely with finding the right candidate. Now time had run out and they had 20 guys and 19 girls but no guy to fill the last girl’s place. They had held auditions but there had been issues regarding leaks, the candidate’s acting or their reasons for participating. 

Shiro had explained that while he knew Keith was socially inept, he also knew that being in the foster system had resulted in Keith’s ability to lie easily enough to save face, something that spawned from his quick wit and creativity. Flattery apparently was on Shiro’s to do list.

“But what about my job?” Keith argued weakly, feeling himself beginning to give in. 

Suddenly Shiro barked out a laugh, shocking Keith who jerked slightly. “Shit I forgot to tell you. The show’s host is your tattoo parlor’s owner.”

It took a moment to register.

“ _What?_ ” Keith sat up fully in his chair, his face the picture of shock, “you’re fucking with me, right?”

“Nope!” Shiro smiled widely, chuckling at Keith’s expression. 

“Whose grand idea was _that_?”

“Alfor.”

Keith slammed his hands on the table incredulously. “The director? No way, you’ve got to be shitting me.”

“Oh yeah they go way back.”

The dark haired boy began to shake his head rapidly, “You know that’s a terrible idea right: Coran hosting a dating show?”

Keith was frankly completely befuddled by the decision. Despite loving the man dearly, and appreciating him as a boss, there was no denying that Coran was flat out crazy and owning a fucking tattoo parlor didn’t really qualify him for reality television.

Shiro shrugged with amusement. “Maybe, maybe not, I don’t know. Either way it’s bound to be amusing wouldn’t you agree.”

Choosing to remain silent, Keith stared at his cup. 

“Coran confirmed that your job would be waiting for you when you returned, and he’d even promote you to senior artist.”

_Fuck that was tempting._

Keith’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion, his nose scrunching up. “Why though?” 

“I don’t know why,” Shiro said, taking a sip of his coffee and playing with the cup’s sleeve. “My guess though is that he, like me, kinda wants to see you do this. I mean there's a lot of potential for humor with your dry wit and attitude.”

Regretfully, Shiro was right, in theory it sounded quite funny, if it wasn’t _real_ people. “This sounds like a terrible idea. What if I come out of the room and the dude gets really angry. I mean it’s drama, but it could also raise some serious homophobia issues.” Keith could feel himself beginning to grow worried, chewing his lip slightly. 

Shiro raised his hands helplessly, shrugging defeatedly, “I know, Alfor and I thought of that. But- and this is just between you and me Keith- we don’t want this show to be any other dating show. We want to prove that to some degree love _isn't_ blind.”

“But I don’t think that's necessarily a bad thing,” Keith argued, “Attraction is important in relationships!”

“And I agree!” Shiro said. “But the people coming into this show, they claim the opposite, despite most likely shitting on people they deem ugly.”

Keith allowed himself to be shocked at Shiro’s rare cussing for a moment. 

“Isn’t it a bit harsh to fuck with people like that? I mean even if they are all douches it’s still… _a lot._ ”

With a great sigh, Shiro nodded. “Yeah, it is. Believe me Keith, I didn’t ever support this idea and neither did Alfor. But it’s not us who have control. That’s partially why I’m asking you to do it. Because I know you, I know you’re kind and you can help people deal with this. And I also know that you can handle whatever response comes when the reveal does happen.”

Taking a big gulp of his hot chocolate, Keith’s mouth twisted with uncertainty. “I don’t know, I would feel really bad if these people truly came to find love.”

“And that’s understandable,” Shiro said, voice kind. Then he leaned in, as if attempting to conspire. “You didn’t hear this from me, but the people behind the scenes just want drama, they can't control whether or not anyone falls for you or what you do. Three people, the host, director and executive producer are advocating for you to do this Keith, we _trust_ you.”

“Ugh can’t _you_ just do it?” Keith groaned, already fully aware of both the impossibility of his suggestion and what Shiro’s response would be. 

Predictably, the elder raised his hand and flashed the shiny engagement ring in Keith’s face. “I don’t think Adam would enjoy that at all.”

“Booo,” Keith whined. “He’s no fun.”

“Hey, fuck you, I’m fun,” came a loud voice from behind. Keith swiveled around to see his soon to be brother in law looming over him with a grin. Adam ruffled Keith’s hair playfully, causing him to scowl, before settling down next to his fiance. “Finally convince him, Shiro?” 

Keith groaned, “You too?” 

“Yes, me too,” said Adam. “I really, _really_ wanna watch that.”

He merely raised his middle finger in response. “Kiss my ass.”

“Sorry, I’m already kissing your brother’s.”

Keith immediately began to make loud gagging noises, covering his hands over his ears with an annoyed “TMI” as Adam laughed and Shiro’s face became bright red. 

Despite their nosy nature, Keith adored Adam and Shiro. Shiro had been his pseudo brother ever since they were young, so when he had started dating Adam, Keith had been worried about what it meant for them. But they had quickly become a tight knit group, along with the surprising addition of Allura, Alfor’s daughter and Keith’s current roommate.

Allura and Keith were an unlikely pair of friends. She was extroverted, diplomatic and poised where he was slightly rude, irritable and most definitely not a social butterfly.

When they found themselves sitting next to one another, he truly never would have thought she would end up being one of his best friends, but their mutual dislike of the teacher had led them to bond rather quickly and now he had a third social friend who constantly attempted to get him to branch out.

Allura was both a realist and a romantic, she didn’t have far off hopes of a romantic comedy but she wanted love, that much was clear. 

Despite this, she was currently single and unlike Keith she didn’t like one night stands (though Keith had definitely burnt out on them too). As the two single members of the group they made it their mission to both support and mock Adam and Shiro’s relationship. It probably saved him from whatever syndrome develops from too much third wheeling. 

However, one disadvantage of being her friend was her _constant_ attempts to set him up. Most had been pretty disastrous. None had lasted very long. 

The main reason the two of them were able to become true friends though, was their art. They worked side by side together at Altea Studio, under the apprenticeship of the eccentric but lovable Coran. She had helped him get the job as tattoo artist and designer and he was forever grateful for it.

Late one night they had agreed that when Coran retired, they would take over the shop. Keith loved this plan because it offered what he had always wanted. Permanence. Stability.

But returning to the deal that was being offered, becoming a senior artist so soon would be amazing. The pay was higher and he could be more selective with clients, be able to choose what concepts he wanted to do and who he wanted to work on. 

“You’re sure about this?” Keith asked, causing both Shiro and Adam to perk up with excitement. The relief was extremely clear on Shiro’s part. 

“We’re sure.”

“And I don’t have to like... seduce anyone, right?"

“Not according to the contract.”

Keith hmm-ed lightly. 

“So you’re in?”

The couple held their breaths in anticipation before releasing it completely when Keith sighed, “Yeah, I’m in.”

* * *

“Pidge, I’m going to kill you.”

“Hey..” Pidge said, shrinking back slightly and holding out her hands towards Lance who was advancing very menacingly towards her, “this is a good thing for you, Lance.”

“I am _going…_ to kill you.”

“Look, I swear it was an accident.” 

When Lance didn’t stop his ominous approach, Hunk hesitantly reached towards him, putting his hand on his back lightly.

“I'm sure she meant well, so maybe just stop with the death threats?” The last part came out like a nervous request that was ignored by both parties.

Suddenly Lance broke away from Hunk’s touch, sprinting towards Pidge who shrieked and vaulted over the couch. The two ignored Hunk’s plea to not step on the furniture as they ran around the room, Lance screaming death threats and Pidge leaping over nearly every obstacle she could find. 

“C’mon guys the neighbors!” Hunk cried helplessly.

Lance pointed an angry finger at his friend, his face a picture of outrage. “Pidge, you are so _fucking_ dead! When I catch you- I swear…” He began to mumble inaudible threats in Spanish under his breath as he once again switched back to prowling around the room like an angry cat. 

“C’mon Lance,” Pidge argued, “this is really right up your alley I swear. Hunk’s doing it!”

“Well Hunk fucking _wanted_ to do it, I did _not!”_

Two weeks ago, in a moment of weakness and rejection, Hunk- a sweet romantic who deserved nothing but the best in Lance’s opinion- had decided to apply to be one of the people on a new dating show.

Pidge and Lance had helped him fill out the long form, they had attached numerous photos and a couple of videos, and submitted it to the website. Altogether it was a pretty funny and entertaining process.

Thinking it a hilarious idea at the time, Pidge had decided to fill out a form for Lance as well, without him knowing of course, filming him under false pretenses and grabbing some photos from various camera rolls.

Truthfully, she hadn’t thought either Hunk or Lance would be chosen. In fact she had thought it completely impossible until the letters arrived at their doorstep and Lance was reading out loud his acceptance for an interview to be on the newest reality television hit, _Unexpected Sights_. Lance had stared at the title for a couple of minutes, laughing at the stupidity before becoming suddenly quiet, and turning to Pidge who had begun to back away from him slowly.

“Maybe it could be fun?” Hunk suggested, “We could go on together.”

“Hunk, buddy,” Lance said, turning to him with an apologetic expression, “I love you but this is just such a bad idea. I mean the people on these shows have never been _our_ type of people. You, me and Pidge have all watched stuff like the bachelor together and it's just endless drama and pain.”

“But Lance,” Pidge said cautiously, her approach wary but sensing that Lance had calmed down. “You’re a drama queen.”

Lance glared at her for a moment before leaning back and shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m dramatic but not about the shit that matters, you guys know that.” His two best friends nodded. “I don't like how shows like... the people just fuck with one another, or at least that’s what it feels like.”

There was a pause in the conversation as Pidge looked away guiltily before muttering to Lance that she was sorry, quietly but just loud enough to have Lance pulling her into a hug that she reluctantly accepted. “Aw Pidgey Poo I know it was just a joke.”

But to the rest of the group’s great surprise, Hunk stepped forward with determination. “I’m gonna do it!” He announced. “I'm going to go to the interview and try to get on the show.”

Lance opened his mouth to speak, and to most likely protest, but Hunk shook his head. “I know what it's like, and that's why I wanna do it, I wanna prove that not everyone is like that and I wanna do something _different_ for once, surely you two can appreciate that.”

Once again there was silence as Hunk nodded to himself, resolved but clearly nervous. 

Pidge sent Lance a look that had him groaning loudly, falling backward onto the couch until the blood was rushing to his head which was pressed into the cushions, his body arched over the couch’s back. 

There was another _look_ from Pidge and Lance groaned once again, and just as loudly, throwing his hands over his eyes. "Fine! I'll go! Happy now?”

Both Hunk and Pidge gave him matching grins. 

“But I’m not gonna like it! If I get on, I’ll play the damn game, but I can pretty much guarantee _neither of us_ are going to like it. And I absolutely refuse to fall in love, though I’m sure everyone will fall for me.”

“Unfortunately,” Pidge cut in, leaning over the couch to look at her friend with an unamused stare, offering her hand to help him pull himself back upright so he could perch on the couch’s back edge. “I think Lance is correct. I doubt either of you will find what you’re looking for on this show.”

“Technically we're not _looking_ for anything.”

When no one responded to Lance’s joke he leaned forward and clarified, “We’re _listening_.”

Hunk sighed, shaking his head as Pidge rudely replied, “yeah, we got the joke, we just chose to ignore it.”

The Cuban huffed angrily, crossing his arms with annoyance. 

“Anyway... Lance,” Pidge began, directing her attention to the taller boy, face growing serious. “I was thinking, while you were there you could get some shots of the studio and stuff, like what an opportunity that is, to have behind the scenes access to reality television. I know it's not your usual stuff but still.”

“To be fair, I don't really have a usual,” Lance said, taking a long moment to consider this proposal. “But I suppose you're right, that would be kind of cool and I’m sure I could get some magazines to pay.”

Lance McClain was a freelance photographer and video editor, who did everything from family portraits to modeling photography to advertising. He had numerous contacts with various magazines, models, companies and even youtubers, so he was constantly busy. The pay for both was not excellent, but it could be a lot worse and he loved what he got to do.

Hunk on the other hand was studying to be an engineer so both he and Pidge, who was studying computer science, had remained in college after their original 4 years. That might have been a problem with scheduling for the show had it not been taking place over the summer and Hunk’s internship had just ended.

Besides, this dating show was offering money to participants and what better way to find love than get _paid_ to do it.

All in all it didn’t seem like too bad of a gig. The biggest issue Lance had with it, beyond the toxic and unrealistic nature of reality television, was the judgement he was going to receive _after._ Now Lance was not an idiot, he had no hopes of finding his true love with a voice modifier and hidden face. But the problem with this was that after this was all said and done, people he would want to date might watch him on the show and decide against it or think he was desperate or something.

That was truly a terrifying thought, but Lance wanted to protect Hunk, Hunk who was far too kind for his own good and wouldn’t really fit in with the stereotypical members of the show. And for Hunk, Lance would do pretty much anything.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Lance commented, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Pidge nodded, also looking dazed, before echoing the sentiment. 

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

* * *

“Nope, no, get me out of here this instant.”

“Keith, it hasn’t even started,” Shiro groaned with exasperation, holding Keith who was attempting to drive past his older brother and run away. 

“Shiro, let me _fucking_ go,” Keith threatened, “I cannot do this. They put _makeup_ on me. For a really long time!”

Because of the secrecy of each contestant's appearance, Keith found himself sitting in some sort of waiting room in anticipation of being called to do his interview. Shiro had come in a couple of minutes before to brief him on what Keith was supposed to say. 

Now Keith _had_ been briefed on what his role was, but he had apparently been given a ton of creative freedom because once he entered the show, he was pretty much there for good without much contact with the producers. He only had a direction for his first interview explaining who he was, the others were unscripted which was just terrible for poor Keith who was not a very eloquent speaker, especially not on camera. 

Because the men couldn’t know Keith was, well a man, he was going to spend his time on the girls side. He had separate utilities and a bedroom set far apart from the girls, though he shared their common room, and every girl was instructed that if they told anybody that they would be immediately cut off the show with zero compensation. 

Despite being gay, contrary to popular, rudely stereotypical, opinion, Keith was not innately more in tune with woman and fashion and makeup (not that he didn’t like them he just didn’t actively pursue it). He was distinctly the opposite, in fact, so he was not quite sure how he was going to survive hanging with only girls, and reality television girls no less, for such a long period of time. 

And his moments of relief from solely female companionship were behind a screen as he was _pretending_ to be a woman. 

Man he really hadn’t thought this through enough. 

_Fuck Shiro._

“C’mon, Keith. It’s too late now. Besides, you look good.”

“You… you tricked me.”

“Tricked you?”

“Yup, so fuck you Shiro, fuck you and your tricks and your 'oh Keith you’re my brother' _bullshit_.”

Shiro heaved a sigh, resting his hands on his head in exasperation before deciding to ignore his brother’s rant. “Now you’ll have your phone, obviously. You can’t use it in common rooms,” he barged past Keith’s indignant squawk. “But in your rooms we have full contact. I can let you know what producers want you to amp up and you have a laptop too so we can skype and so forth. We’ll probably only see each other through that and when you're giving interviews or getting makeup done so…” The older man trailed off before giving Keith a hard stare and pulling him into a tight hug. 

“Thank you, Keith,” he whispered, as Keith hesitantly returned the embrace, choosing not to respond to the heartfelt sentiment but he knew Shiro understood. 

“I’ll see you soon, Shiro. The minute we’re free we’re skyping, okay?”

“Yeah, and Keith?”

“Uh huh?”

Shiro winked, smilingly knowingly before turning to walk out of the waiting room’s door. “I didn’t leave you all alone.”

“What?” Keith called out confused, his head tilted to the side. “What do you mean?” But Shiro was already out the door. 

A little light flicked on the side and he was summoned to sit on a stool, multiple cameras pointed at him, lights and microphones hanging in the air. He took a moment to remember his various instructions. 

Keith closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

When his eyes opened once again, the recording light was on and he began to speak. 

* * *

_“My name is Keith Kogane… I’m 23 three years old, I live in Queens as a tattoo artist, and… um I’m gay. Unlike pretty much everyone else here- I’m not here to find love. I've been asked to take the place of one woman… to enter the pods as someone I’m not in order to get a first hand look at the romantic process. I’m here to show you a different perspective and help this experiment determine the answer to the age old question: is love truly blind?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coming up next: the chapter in which lance and keith find allies


	2. In Which Lance and Keith Find Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple men were preening by the mirror, straightening their jackets and trying to hide all the wires the best they could while finding the best angles to display their abs and jawlines. 
> 
> “No one’s slick as Gaston,” Rolo muttered under his breath, punching a laugh out of the rest, even as James himself was looking in a mirror.
> 
> “I don’t need a mirror to know I’m flawless,” Lance dramatically announced, even as he turned to watch himself run a hand through soft hair, sighing and wondering how the hell he got into this situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyyy... sorry its been so long but my finals just ended so i got to writing immediately but thank you so much for the comments they are the sweetest and make me sooo happy ahhh :) is it weird that i’m now terrified of disappointing u guys??
> 
> little psa: it is never my intention to offend anyone, but i do mock dating shows and the participant patterns i notice a lot. i really exaggerate that and the stereotypes in the fic for the sake of humor and emphasizing how diff lance and keith r, but ik that not all r like that obvi and these r all just my opinions. i stan and kin keith and bakugo so like my opinions on certain types are bound to differ sometimes lmao

_“Hi! I’m Lance McClain, I’m a 23 year old photographer, I live in Queens, though I grew up in Cuba, and I didn’t really expect to find myself on reality television. I guess you could consider me a romantic, but I’m here on this show to hopefully prove to myself that I won’t need looks to recognize the one.”_

* * *

Lance’s interview had been nerve wracking to say the least. How else do you describe being pushed and pulled from station to station as your face slowly became more and more caked in makeup, so much so that he felt like he couldn’t touch his face for fear of ending up with some streak of color on his hand and cheek? 

Now Lance was most certainly not a stranger to beauty products and processes, having his own daily skin care routine and growing up with numerous sisters, but it had never been this extensive and he had never been shoved in front of a camera to summarize his life in five seconds immediately after. 

Naturally, at 23, Lance and Hunk were on the younger side of participants in this show, which made sense considering the entire thing resulted in marriage, something that hadn’t quite sunk in until they were being debriefed on everything—from when they were allowed to use their phone to shower times. It was all a bit overwhelming and Lance would be lying if he claimed that he wasn’t beginning to have major doubts. On one hand, he felt sorta bad considering his intentions on the show weren’t exactly what he claimed them to be. On the other, he _really_ was not ready to get engaged, especially to someone he had only known for under one sixth of a year. 

But it was already too late. He had given his initial interview, introduced himself on camera and was now preparing to finally meet his roommates for the next two months. There was certainly no backing out now. 

After being pushily ushered through a small door that led into a long hallway where numerous other men were already standing, chatting or examining the brightly lit ceilings, Lance was immediately greeted by some random people who shook his hand, asked him why he came here and attempted small talk. It was the only time Lance cursed his conversational abilities because he really didn’t want to have in depth discussions with these people but he also didn’t want to be rude. When he finally made his way through the crowd and reached Hunk, he nearly cried with relief as they embraced heartily and drifted off to the side to whisper their gossip (this was mostly Lance).

However, only a couple minutes passed before a man with bright orange hair, an old-timey moustache, and crazy eyes burst onto the scene, looking like he had just swallowed ten caffeine pills and chugged a red bull.

“Welcome to ‘Unexpected Sights!’” He greeted loudly, the entire group cheering slightly at those words while Lance wondered if there was some cue card he hadn’t been given.

“I’m Coran, the host of this experiment and I’m here to help guide you in your new adventure to figure out just how blind your feelings are.” He spoke in a loud, booming voice with a… New Zealand accent? Heavy use of hand motions accompanied his words and he had a great air of gusto about him. “This show is nothing, _nothing_ like you’ve ever seen before.”

The first part of Coran’s speech had been directed more toward the various male contestants, but Lance sensed something about the last sentence was... off. Coran looked directly at the camera, unsmiling, before returning to his boisterous self to declare that they would now be heading to the male common room. 

“Let’s make a bet,” Lance whispered, “How many times will we hear the word blind over all these weeks? I say 326.” 

Hunk ignored him.

The group immediately followed at Coran’s heels, eager to learn where they would be spending such a large amount of time, while Lance kept his head on a swivel, looking at the doors that supposedly marked the entrance to the pods they wouldn't be using until the next day. 

“Hunk,” Lance probed, “so how’d your interview go?”

Hunk wrung his hands nervously, “I don’t know but I’ve been thinking, what if people didn’t like me, Lance? What if they think I’m a jerk or something or maybe I’m too timid for them?” 

Lance laughed lightly, rolling his eyes playfully. 

“Dude,” he assured, patting Hunk’s back and reaching towards his hands to stop their nervous movements, “nobody could ever think you’re a jerk,”

There was a lull in the conversation before Hunk leaned over and lowered his voice to a whisper, “are you gonna tell them?”

Lance’s eyebrows furrowed, “About? Them?”

“You know, are you gonna tell the people in the pods that you’re bi?”

“Ah… that,” Lance trailed off, titling his head as he considered the question and the situation, “Yeah, I don’t think so, like what if I tell one person and they happen to vehemently hate bisexuality and then tell everyone else. I am open about my sexuality, but I really don’t want to cause a ton of drama on reality TV. If asked though, I won’t lie.”

Hunk nodded with consideration, but he seemed dissatisfied, “But you’re gonna have to tell whoever you get engaged to. Shouldn’t whoever you’re gonna marry know?”

“We already went over this,” Lance sighed, “there is no way I’m ready for marriage yet. Absolutely nothing will convince me otherwise.”

Forehead still wrinkled because of his concerned expression, Hunk continued to press the issue, “You’re going to have to propose to someone, and it's not like the studio will accept you talking to them beforehand, since everything is televised.”

Lance shrugged noncommittally, “Yeah, but if I propose and they say yes then hopefully they are going to be willing to talk things out afterward. Like, to be honest, if they throw a fit about not getting married in three months I am really going to question them as a person and as a lifelong partner.”

Despite most likely wanting to continue the conversation, Hunk chuckled lightly, commenting, “You don’t seem to have a lot of faith in the process.”

“Real shocker, amiright?”

“You’ll never fall in love with an attitude like that, young sir,” came the fond admonishment, voice a ridiculous two octaves lower and falsely stern.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone though, Hunk,” Lance said with a bright grin, bumping his shoulder into the other’s and winking when Hunk shyly returned his smile, years of comfortable friendship quite useful for awkward moments in large, new groups such as these.

“Young sirs-” a thickly accented voice came from behind the two fairly exculsive best friends, causing Lance to jump and shriek, “jesus fucking christ!” while Hunk swung around, smacking Lance with his thick arm causing him to groan and look toward his best friend (who was extremely apologetic mind you) with a look of betrayal.

Coran was grinning behind them, seemingly oblivious to the shock he had unwittingly caused, his hand twirling the end of his moustache. Abruptly, Lance realized that he and Hunk had fallen behind the main group who had already entered the common room and he winced slightly, offering a slight apologetic shrug and smile. 

Hunk still seemed to be recovering from his shock.

The men already in the room seemed to be in awe of their surroundings whispering and “ohhhh”-ing at the interior designing. Either they were really hamming it up for the cameras (still desperately hoping that they can get on screen and avoid being those characters that don’t do enough that they look like extras--the route Lance was hoping to pursue) or they must have found Ikea to be the most fascinating place on the planet.

“You two seem well acquainted,” the older man said, in lieu of an introduction. At his side, Hunk swallowed nervously, apparently unwilling or incapable of replying which was entirely unnecessary because Coran was not the least bit intimidating, friendly and kind in a way that your weird uncle was when he came back from touring the world looking for rare bird species and handing you some strange hand-carven gift.

Lance took pity on his best friend, reaching his hand out towards the ginger-haired man and greeting, “yeah, actually. I’m Lance and this fine man here is Hunk.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows with confusion when Coran high-fived his outstretched hand and promptly turned around, instructing them to follow him while launching into a long winded explanation that Lance missed because he was still staring at his hand perplexingly. He turned toward Hunk who merely shrugged and together they followed the host through the doorway.

The common room that they walked into was far nicer than his apartment or the dormitory where he spent the majority of his college life, a suede red couch commanding attention as the room’s centerpiece--far too large and low to the ground. Cast as the couch’s partner in crime was a short white coffee table, with a bar and some stools close by and a small kitchen behind it.

Unsurprisingly, the bar was much larger than was strictly necessary, but it really helped to sell the room’s “high class, strangely modern made for people who have trust funds and call themselves entrepreneurs” type vibe.

Suddenly and completely unexpectedly, Lance felt himself lurching forward, snapping him out of his state of shock, and he looked back in annoyance for the source of his stumble before realizing it had been Coran who had slapped his back so hard that it had sent him flying. 

“So boys,” He announced loudly, deafening poor Lance who was standing far too close to him, still bent forward from his attempt to stay standing. 

All around the room, little groups had already formed, most people sticking to people in their same age range (and fashion sense apparently), but at the sound of Coran’s booming voice they all turned in curiosity. “Welcome to the common room! Now in a short while you men will go choose your rooms, and your roommate!”

Lance and Hunk looked at each other quickly, grinning at one another and stepping closer together as if to signal to the rest that they would be rooming together, something completely unnecessary considering no one would be asking them. Throughout the room similar interactions were going on and soon enough nearly everyone had paired off. 

Coran continued to speak in that TV show host way, introducing the show and all the details that had already been presented to the participants before they had entered the room-- a detail that made the other men’s intense rapture a little ridiculous looking. Having no intense desire to look desperate to be on TV, Lance took this time to slink towards the back of the group and take a closer look at the people who were to be his companions for the next two months, unsurprised to find that the rest of the cast looked to be the standard dating show participants. Most seemed to be around 30-35 as compared to Lance and Hunk’s 23 and 24. 

To the very right, there was a good looking group of guys who were probably the only other young participants of the show. One was African American with a strong jaw and hair messy on the top but shaved on the sides. The other looked like the definition of a “fuck-boy” what with his sharp chin, silky brown hair, and slightly judgy eyes. The last had long white hair that Lance might have associated with a Malfoy had the dude not looked completely stoned.

Other than these three, the rest of the group seemed to be fairly normal, especially for shows like the Bachelor and if he was being honest they all seemed to blend together. They grouped off with people who seemed equally bland, and Lance just felt himself grow bored just looking at them. 

A couple of people had some interesting facial hair (and by interesting he meant so boringly predictable and lacking the jaws to make it a sexy stubble) and some wore some unusual outfits (never button up flannels ew), but most were lightly tanned and probably from Idaho (he made this claim baselessly because he had never been to Idaho). 

Now the Cuban knew that he probably shouldn’t judge everyone and put them into the same category, and he didn’t want to let the dating and reality television that he had binged in preparation for this put him off, but he had spent his whole life analyzing what he found attractive, what people he could be friends with (mostly everyone), what people he would actually want to befriend (not everyone), and who was going to judge him for being him.

It was a defense mechanism, a way to keep himself safe. 

Also it was freaking fun and Lance didn’t have nearly as much self control as he perhaps should.

Lance himself was wearing simple skinny black jeans and a light blue t-shirt that he thought brought out his eyes. It wasn’t a particularly out there outfit, but for some reason it seemed out of place in this crowd.

Once again, there were four other people dressed similarly to Lance. This meant that there were only four people lacking either loose blue jeans, boots and a flannel— the country boy look—or fucking polos and khaki shorts—the frat boy look—or some too tight button down muscle shirt— the needs to relax we get you go to the gym look. 

These four were unsurprisingly the same people that Lance had noticed earlier, including Hunk and his dark green pants and yellow shirt. The stoner was wearing loose sweatpants and a thin pullover, the fuck boy was wearing a loose fitting tank top and grey jeans, and his ripped friend was wearing simple skinny ripped blue jeans and a white t-shirt. 

With great amusement Lance watched as the f-boy looked down at himself and up towards the rest, most likely taking in what Lance had a minute before. 

If Lance were a better person, he would have avoided all the snap judgements he was making but he was already turned off by the idea of the show in general and the participants weren’t helping. 

Lance was a romantic, he was unashamed to admit it. And while this came as a shock to some, romantic dating shows never seemed very romantic to him. They seemed forced, shallow, over dramatic and fake. Period. 

And so did the people.

Lance had been called those same things before, had been told that his interest in girls and flirting were all for show. He had been offended and he had cried, but now he was old enough (and surrounded by amazing friends) to understand himself and know the difference. 

Lance elbowed Hunk and whispered, “so how you feel bout these people?”

Hunk shrugged, “I don’t know, haven't spoken to any of them yet.”

_Ah this sweet sweet boy._

Out of the corner of his eye, Lance saw the brown haired boy perk up and point towards them, his friend catching on and immediately starting to walk towards the pair as the fuck boy hesitated slightly, looking towards Coran to see if he was watching them, before following. It seemed that they all had recognized they were the odd men out because soon enough the stoner was approaching them as well, reaching them first.

“I’m Rolo,” he greeted, keeping his hands in his sweatpants pockets and only nodding as he sidled up next to them, leaning back casually. 

“Lance,” the Cuban responded quietly, “this one’s Hunk.” 

Hunk smiled at the newcomer, reaching a friendly hand out before flinching slightly as another voice came from right next to him, the duo having reached the group and introducing themselves as James (the fuck boy) and Kinkade (jeez Lance wants those arms).

“So I guess none of us got the memo on the age requirement?” James asked, smirking slightly when the group chuckled. “You guys have got to be like young 20’s too right?”

“Yup,” Rolo said, his deep and raspy surfer voice tinged with amusement, popping the p as he kept his eyes on Coran who was speaking animatedly to the attentive crowd. Even with his gaze trained on the energetic host, Rolor managed to give a sideways smirk, his platinum locks falling across his face until he wordlessly blew upward and they floated briefly before falling in place a little to the side. 

The Cuban himself felt a little bit lost, wondering why the hell a show that would cast a group of people that looked nearly identical alongside four incredibly different looking, not to mention considerably younger, people. 

“I seriously have no clue what this show is going for anymore,” Lance admitted, “like I get them”—he gestured toward the group of 30 year old men—“but if that's what they're going for then why are we here?”

James shrugged. “To appeal to the young girls audience?” Seems like the boy was aware of what he looked like. 

Kinkade hmmed lightly, arms flexing as he shrugged, “they probably woulda gotten that anyway though.”

“Maybe cause they needed some diversity,” Hunk suggested, James pointing a thin finger towards him. 

“Point.”

Nodding his agreement, Lance opened his mouth to comment on how in the only group of young people they had white hair, a Cuban American, an African American, a Samoan and the only white boy with a pointy not square chin (he would have phrased that one better since he feels like James might be a bit touchy and the dude was objectively hot as shit), but was interrupted by a sharp intake of breath coming from Rolo. 

The man’s eyes were wide as he leaned in as if to gossip. “How old do you think the girls will be?”

The entire group seemed to ponder that idea. 

“Woah,” said James, “and we aren’t allowed to talk about age in the pods it was on the sheet.”

Kinkade’s mouth twisted, “there’s gotta be some way to tell.”

“Like what?” Lance laughed, “Ask them what movies they’ve seen recently. See if they react to calling them thou?” 

There was a moment of silence until James finally spoke up again, “Would you guys be ok marrying someone like five plus years older than you, cause it could very well happen?”

Hunk, the ever sweet and accepting sweetheart, cautiously spoke. “I think I’d be okay with it.”

Comparatively, Lance merely floundered. “I feel like I shoulda thought of these things earlier.” Once again he felt a stab of regret that he had even come, knowing that he definitely was in no way prepared for whatever the shit was going to happen in these next months. _For Hunk_ he reminded himself. 

There were nods of agreement from nearly everyone else in their small group. 

Glancing at Coran to check that he was still speaking and not paying attention to them, Rolo asked “So why y’all here anyway? I just kinda applied on a whim.”

The group seemed surprisingly and hilariously uncertain, no one apparently completely clear or sold on this whole idea. Lance felt himself grow more and more confused as to why they were chosen, and he began to wonder if there were some people on the casting crew either deliberately messing with things or just completely out of it.

James shrugged, “seemed fun so like why not?” 

“I don’t know, love?” Kinkade said a little helplessly, his long, dark fingers brushing a few curls of hair off his forehead. 

Hunk nodded, saying “me too, I guess” at the same time that Lance explained “I’m accompanying Hunk over here, but when he applied our other friend just decided to, without my knowledge, apply for me as well.”

Rolo whistled, “respect for your friend.”

After a little bit of chatting, it seemed that Coran had finally finished his loud debrief, and the group was ready to move on, Coran announcing that they would be entering the pods in no less than ten minutes. The other men of the show cheered obnoxiously (like calm down the plane hasn’t landed yet) while Lance’s newly formed gang exchanged amused glances. 

_At least,_ Lance unashamedly thought to himself, _they were definitely the hottest group on the show._

There was a brief scramble where everyone grabbed microphones and voice modifiers, attaching them to their body and hiding them. A couple men were preening by the mirror, straightening their jackets and trying to hide all the wires the best they could while finding the best angles to display their abs and jawlines. 

“No one’s slick as Gaston,” Rolo muttered under his breath, punching a laugh out of the rest, even as James himself was looking in a mirror.

“I don’t need a mirror to know I’m flawless,” Lance dramatically announced, even as he turned to watch himself run a hand through soft hair, sighing and wondering how the hell he got into this situation. 

Soon enough, Lance was forced to say goodbye to his new friends as he and Hunk were ushered to a door side by side of one another. His stomach began to churn uncomfortably, nerves making his breathing a bit uneven as he transferred his weight back and forth between his left and right leg. 

Responding to Hunk’s enthusiastic wave with a wary smile, Lance took a deep breath in, turned to the opening pod doors, and stepped inside. 

* * *

_“My name is Hunk Garret, I’m 24 and studying to be an engineer. I came here, well I guess I came here for a pretty boring reason. I just want to fall in love and have an interesting story to go along with it.”_

“ _Hunk and I applied together, I guess they wanted some friends who knew each other already because both of us got in and here we are.”_

_“I’m so thankful Lance is here, I really don’t know how I’d deal without him.”_

* * *

“What the absolute fuck are you doing here?” Keith said, completely dumbfounded and staring wide eyed at Allura motherfucking Altea, his best fucking friend who was standing in front of him equally shocked. 

“ _Keith_ ?” Allura asked, absolute incredulity seeping into her tone, “I’m here to participate, what are _you_ doing here?”

Keith faltered, shrugging before pushing his hands into his pockets and pulling them out once again, his nervous energy compelling him to move in anyway possible. 

“Um, I mean... I guess... kinda... same?”

Allura’s eyes widened even more, accompanied by a sharp intake as dangerous, amused realization spread over her face. 

“ _You’re_ who they choose? Oh Shiro, you sneaky bastard,” her accented voice sounded awed, mouth which had been hanging open twisting into a small smirk, pretty and alluring in that way she had completely mastered. It was slightly scary. _She_ was slightly scary. 

“Yeah, I guess you already know then,” Keith shrugged. “This all kinda happened all at once so I’m a bit overwhelmed right now. Why are _you_ here though?”

Keith knew his eyes were a bit crazed, wide and shocked, his voice a little breathless and head a little dizzy. 

Allura tilted her head, fond smile firmly in place and helping to soothe some of Keith’s manic confusion. “They told all us girls already what the whole deal with one man would be. I just had no clue it would be you.” She laughed loudly at that. “And again, I’m here to participate though maybe I’m somewhat of an inside man. Just maybe.”

Clever smirk still fixated on her features and a wink following her not so subtle words, Keith burst into laughter, the ridiculousness of the situation certainly not lost on him and easing his nerves. And beyond that wild adrenaline stemming from the constant streams of “what the fuck” coursing through his mind, was relief. 

Because he was so fucking _relieved_. 

Relieved that he would have a friend by his side to talk to and to laugh at others with. Relieved that he wasn’t going to spend the days with people he didn’t know, didn’t feel comfortable with. 

Basically, he was relieved that he wouldn't be alone. Again. 

He would probably have to unpack some of that in the future. 

Eh. 

They took a moment to catch up since Keith was still reeling at the new development and Allura was far far too amused for everyone’s good. 

She kept leaning in to whisper conspiratorially about other contestants, little tidbits that she had learned from her father, pointing at one girl commenting about how she had listed herself as a vegan but her instagram was populated with dairy products and pointing at another who apparently had posted a video online about how many snapchat’s she had from men before it was revealed she had asked them to send her snaps. Keith chuckled at each, Allura’s slytherin ways one of his favorite things about her (but even Keith could tell that it was her kindness, her knowing eyes that understood how in over his head Keith was feeling, that compelled her to keep making him laugh). 

Keith had the best fucking friends. 

Except Shiro. He was a traitor and Keith was disowning him immediately. 

Oh and Adam too, he was probably laughing at Keith from the safety of his apartment. Fuck him. 

And whoops, that was the extent of Keith’s friends. 

Keith had the best fucking friend. Singular. 

Everything from this point on was slightly a blur, characterized by judging or curious glances from other participants and Keith being completely unable to judge anything about the women around him due to social ineptitude, not really giving a shit, nerves, and general gayness. Most of the girls seemed to be around 10 years older than Keith himself, all pretty but none prettier than Allura herself. Some were smiling kindly, others reminded him of bullies from his high school. 

All were not Keith’s type. For obvious reasons. 

Keith stuck close to Allura’s side, the girl dragging him along by the arm, whispering in his ear, introducing them to new people (ignoring the questions addressed to Keith about his role and what he thinks is gonna happen) and finally running towards Coran who pulled him into a suffocating hug. 

Unable to chat with Coran for too long because of his role in the show, Keith soon had to leave the safety of familiarity with his boss only to be faced with what he had completely been dreading. 

“You’ll be fine Keith,” Allura said, hand resting comfortingly on his shoulder, far too perceptive for her own good. 

Keith smiled gratefully, “time to go make an ass of myself on camera,” he deadpanned flashing a quick V with his two fingers before dropping his hand to his side.

“A noble cause indeed,” Allura said. She attempted to mask her amusement but could not stop very poorly, tiny snickers from sneaking out. 

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up. I’m gonna be all over fucking twitter. I’m gonna trend. Hashtag who is this bitch. Fuck. Shit.” Keith cursed, “I’m going to have to kill Shiro.”

Allura, unhelpfully, laughed very loudly, “When this is all over, I’ll help. For now, we have to go.”

“Ugh, please kill me,” Keith said, groaning entirely too loudly. 

“Sure, sure hun.”

Suddenly, Coran called out to the group, “Time to go, participants!”

In no time at all, they were all set to enter, standing in the hallway with a long set of doors looking like a scene from _1984_. 

As the doors opened, Keith closed his eyes, and stepped forward, bracing himself to meet whoever was on the other side of the wall and adopt his new identity. 

* * *

_“Allura and I are roommates and best friends, so it was definitely a bit strange seeing her on the show when I hadn’t even known she would be participating.”_

_“I also hadn’t known Keith would be here, especially not in this capacity. I guess with the sheer number of various contestants I’m just thankful I have a familiar face beside me.”_

_“It really makes me wonder, did the producers know we knew each other or was it just some strange coincidence?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ik some ppl don’t really like james but i think he’s hot so he gets to hang out with lance’s hot boy group. lucky him lmao
> 
> aint never seen two pretty best friends? meet keith and allura
> 
> sorry they didn’t meet yet, trying to keep the chapters shorter so i can post more often! 
> 
> coming up next: the chapter in which lance faces a new, faceless worst enemy


	3. In Which Keith Trolls and Lance Gains an Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Lance’s side of the pods, there was absolute disbelief. “No?! I offer you an olive branch and you say no?” He was incredulous. “Why, may I ask?”
> 
> Keith shrugged, “I don’t know you just seem like the type of person who perpetually looks at themselves on facetimes.”
> 
> The silence lasted for only a few seconds before Lance’s (or really the software’s) voice came once again, undoubtedly confusedly irritated this time. “Well that would depend on how good looking the other person is, but also like how is that relevant at all?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, im back! lol its been a fat minute. thank u smmmm for all the positive responses this work has been receiving, every comment is so sweet i feel like i can only say awww sm without sounding like an insincere and broken record...
> 
> just a warning, keith and lance's initial convo is a bit rude to say the least esp considering keith is meant to b a girl, but dw they both acknowledge it and address y they think they found it so easy to forgo any sort of politeness to one another, plus a wall is sorta like being anon in person, also its just my sense of humor...

_ “I think the weirdest part is going to be getting used to my new name, like Kira isn’t that different from Keith but still.” _

* * *

The first thing that Keith noticed when he stepped into the pod was it seemed to be in the shape of an octagon, something entirely unnecessary and quite stupid in Keith’s humble opinion. There was a small shelf to the right with various snacks and water, but the rest of the room was fairly bare besides the pillows, blankets and couch that sat smack dab in the center of the room. All but one of the walls seemed to be lined with a carpet-like material, the wall on the far end seemingly being the connecting points between the two participants. There was no way to see through the wall, and if it weren't for the audio editing (and subsequent voice modifying) software, it most likely would have been quite difficult or essentially impossible to talk through. Keith assumed that if the producers were banking on the voice modifying thing then there better not be any chance of the other hearing them. 

Keith’s entire role was heavily dependent on this assumption as any malfunction could completely blow his “air tight” cover. On second thought, it’s failure might make his life way easier. 

Tossing himself grumpily onto the couch, pointedly ignoring the massive fucking cameras and mics adorning the room (maybe they were meant to be more subtle as they were in the corners but they still stood out intensely), Keith flung his head into a pillow and groaned loudly into the fur. 

“I’m gonna kill Shiro,” Keith began to mutter, flipping onto his back and speaking to the ceiling. “I’m gonna kill him. Stab, really hard and deep and many times and then-”

“Wow, someone must have really pissed you off,” came a loud voice from the other side of the door. It was an ugly tinny voice, clearly edited and Keith had to wonder if the producers wanted the man to fail because no one could fall in love with whatever that was. 

“Shitttt,” Keith said. 

“Nice to meet you too,” the voice replied with amusement. “I’m Lance, I would ask you how you’re doing but I don’t think I’ll receive a positive response.”

Keith was about to introduce himself in turn, before he caught sight of the camera in the corner and remembered exactly what his mission here was.

“Kira. I suppose this is where I ask you how you’re doing?”

“According to the proper conventions of society I would say yeah, that’s your line.”

Keith hummed lightly, suddenly distracted wondering what his own voice sounded like on the other side. Was it a male or female voice? Was it high or low?

“You know you’re a bit rude,” the voice, or Lance said, interrupting Keith’s thoughts. With indignation, Keith turned his head with a scowl toward the wall, making an affronted noise. 

“Give me a break!” Keith muttered, hackles raised and on the defensive (and he was already an antisocial ass according to Shiro so this was bound to turn sour). “This happens to be my first time on reality TV.”

“Oh sick! Twinsies!!” The man on the other side of the wall seemed far too excited to be natural. 

“Who even says that anymore?” Keith deadpanned, his nose scrunching up with distaste. 

“Umm, me. I just did, keep up.”

There was a lull in the conversation as neither party quite knew what to say. 

“Soooo…” Lance drawled, “got any icebreakers?”

“No.”

“Any questions for me?”

“No.”

“Any intention to help this next half an hour run smoothly?”

“No.”

“Wow, I got so unlucky to have you first then.”

Keith gasped, putting as much emotion into it as possible despite his face unchanging from his bored expression. Silently he began to cycle his feet through the air, watching them and wondering how he was going to survive the next few weeks. 

It wasn’t like there was something wrong with Lance, he seemed like a fine dude, if not a tad annoying (though that was to be expected), but Keith had a mission. By the end of the show, the men would hate him and the producers could get fucked when no one proposed to their “undercover dude”.

“How dare you, I am a delight! Everyone in my sorority just loved me to pieces and I was always the teachers favorite!” Keith exclaimed with faked offense and pride, trying to think of what type of person would annoy him the most and channel it into his voice. Maybe next interview Kira would be a dude bro. 

“Holy shit, I have no clue how to respond to that.” Lance’s voice rang out, tinged with shock but with irritation beginning to grow within his tone. 

“I get that a lot. So many people think I am just a pretty face but I’m actually just one of the guys and I’m like so smart.”

Keith was very very proud of his newfound acting abilities, beginning to have some fun with it and even attempting to quote a line directly from one of the shows he had seen in the past. 

“I feel like you’re pulling my leg.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Keith feigned. “Is it some kind of innuendo?” 

“Ugh!” was all Lance replied with, his scoff a mix of disbelieving, annoyed and exasperated. 

Conversation went on in this pattern for the next few minutes, Keith hamming it up while Lance grew more and more irritated. 

Though he felt sorta bad, Keith had to admit it was quite amusing and he felt a slight smirk begin to pull at the sides of his mouth. 

It was almost fun really. 

While Keith was busy musing with a small amount of pride about his newly developed social and acting skills, (take that Shiro), Lance had been stewing in his anger and finding no other way to deal with the situation—and no other way to get some form of petty vengeful satisfaction—loudly proclaimed, “Look if you’re not even gonna try, I’m just gonna start singing.”

That pulled Keith out of his bemused thoughts, and he felt his eyes narrow. “Please don’t.”

There was a deep breath in, before the hideous tinny voice of the modifier began to ring throughout the room, “a hundred bottles of beer-“

“Literally stop.”

“-on the wall, a hundred bottles of beer-”

“I’ll kill you.”

“-take one down, pass it around, 99 bottles-“

“Seriously I will.”

“-of beer on the wall. 99-“

“Holy shit can you just fucking stop!” Keith burst out, all amusement gone and now decidedly annoyed (which he sees the irony of but fuck off, his intentions were well placed). 

Lance stopped his song, if only to shrilly exclaim, “It’s not my fault you’re the most uncooperative, unfriendly and worst conversationalist ever!”

It really was a fair point, especially considering Keith’s only attempts to converse had been rude statements, but he could not help rise to the bait. “I am an  _ amazing  _ conversationalist, I will have you know. In fact-“

“Oh yeah, my bad! I forgot everyone in your sorority loved you.”

Keith paused for a second, his train of thought interrupted. “My what?”

“Your sorority? The thing you literally mentioned two seconds ago, what are you senile?”

“My soror-? Oh! Shit fuck. Ummm, yeah that’s right.” Keith tried to recover quickly, heart racing with mild panic as he realized he had been so caught up in the argument that he had completely forgotten his back story. “Of course they loved me! Everyone does. What about it?!”

Keith was gonna get so much fucking flack for this, he could just see Shiro and Adam gleefully playing this conversation over and over again every car ride. He really might have to reconsider those acting skills, but he felt like he deserved forgiveness considering he really had no frame of reference and was  _ very very  _ out of his comfort zone. 

“I’m just really doubting the validity of those claims.” Keith couldn’t hear Lance but he was pretty sure he was smugly shrugging. 

“First of all, _ you’re  _ doubting me when you're like the king of doucheknuckles?” Now Keith at this point was fully and completely aware that he was going overboard. Lance got on his nerves but no way was he anything close to deserving Keith’s colorful cussing or insults. But incidentally, it seemed that he had zero control of his mouth around Lance. He just couldn’t help himself.

Fortunately, when he was about to continue with a “ _ Second, why don’t you go suck a cock” _ , he remembered that there was indeed a camera fixated on his face and he was also completely out of character at the moment and needed to get back on track. Breathing in, he attempted to channel his inner  _ “I make life impossible for everyone while prattling on about how everyone else is the problem and no one respects me” _ attitude. 

“ _ Second _ , what kind of world do we live in where the word of a woman is always so-“ 

Admittedly, Keith had literally no clue what he was spouting anymore but he could feel himself involuntarily growing angry anyway. It was the most nonsensical argument he had ever had and he was beginning to get whiplash from his own character. 

“That is so  _ not _ what is happening here, literally what are you even talking about? I don’t doubt the word of  _ women _ , I doubt the word of  _ you.  _ Also a douche  _ what _ ?”

Knowing when he was beat, and also really not wanting to address his statement which strayed too far into the whole “let’s make everything political” territory that always seemed to undercut the chosen political movement, Keith decided to just choose the safe route. 

“You heard me! A douche knuckle.”

“How would that even work? You gonna use the douche on your hand?”

“How about you find out when I shove it up your ass?” Keith was crossing his fingers that there were girls who spoke like this (he was pretty sure there were but he  _ literally _ only had Allura as reference).

Fortunately, Lance was either very unique or just fired up enough that he had decided to roll with it. “It doesn’t go in the _ass_ you silly billy.”

“ _ That's _ your only issue with that statement?”

“I’m just saying,” Lance said, almost diplomatically, “if you’re going to insult me then at least be right about it.”

“Look,”—Keith’s annoyance was almost (almost) outweighed by how dumbfounded he was—“even if it’s not intended for an asshole, I could still perform the action in question.”

There was a little bit of floundering on the other side of the wall. “How did we even start with this line of dialogue?” Lance asked, voice high and tinged with disbelief. 

There was a slight pause in the conversation as Keith considered his answer. 

“I don’t remember…”

Lance sighed heavily, “I feel like we got off to a bad start.”

A scoff came out of Keith immediately, his reflex to stupidity apparently. “Oh really.”

“Do you want to get off to a better start?”

Keith tilted his head, considering it, before ultimately deciding that he was far too annoyed to oblige and besides this really did align with his goals anyway.

“...No.”

On Lance’s side of the pods, there was absolute disbelief. “No?! I offer you an olive branch and you say no?” He was incredulous. “ _ Why _ may I ask?”

Keith shrugged, “I don’t know you just seem like the type of person who perpetually looks at themselves on facetimes.”

The silence lasted for only a few seconds before Lance’s (or really the software’s) voice came once again, undoubtedly confusedly irritated this time. “Well that would depend on how good looking the other person is but also like how is that relevant at all?”

Tilting his head, Keith continued to probe, “what so it’s like a comparison thing? You're forced to look at the better looking specimen?”

“Specimen?”—there was a fake vomiting noise to which Keith rolled his eyes—“Ew. Also, who doesn’t look at themselves. You’re literally lying if you say you don’t. Now can we go back and address the whole you taking my olive branch and putting it up ur ass to keep the one already in there company?” Lance’s voice had steadily risen in pitch as he had continued, so much so that he sounded like a shrill bird by the end because the original pitch had started high anyway. 

“I think we should stop with the ass jokes.”

“Okay, but it was a perfect set up,” Lance defended, “besides it's a little too easy to say rude things to that voice of yours.” 

“What does it sound like?” This was probably the closest to civil conversation they had had yet. 

Lance paused and considered it before answering, “it sounds like you smoke thirty times a day and purposefully speak in a lower voice to sound cool. What about mine?”

Keith’s answer was already on the top of his tongue. “Sounds like you incorporate the words kawaii and waifu into your daily conversation and are often mistaken for a woman.”

“Wow, harsh. Anyway, back to the facetime thing?”

“Why?” Keith asked, raising one eyebrow even though he knew Lance couldn’t see him, but needing to express his perplexion that Lance somehow needed to keep bringing up previous points of contention. 

“The way you can’t handle any slight sorta making it seem like I might not be too off base there.”

“Excuse you,“ Lance said angrily, suddenly fired up again when Keith had thought the two of them were finally calming down and probably pointing his finger angrily, “listen here: I don’t like you  _ Kira _ , you’re really a petulant jerk.”

“Ah yes,  _ I’m _ the petulant one,” Keith said, hotly. “Nothing screams maturity like stringing together the phrase ‘I don’t like you’ and the term ‘jerk.’” 

There was a scoff from the other side of the screen. “Oh fuck off.”

“Beautiful language. Perfect for reality television.”

“Psh, It’s tv MA anyway so they can deal with it or cut me out, big whoop. Besides that’s a bit hypocritical.” 

Keith was growing progressively more and more agitated as Lance talked, especially since the voice modifier was literally the most annoying pitch possible and made Keith want to rip his goddamn ears out. 

“Idiot.”

“Mouth breather.”

Keith huffed loudly. “Man you really got me there, hitting me where it hurts—my breathing patterns, which, may I remind you, you can’t actually prove since I’m behind a fucking screen.”

“I can always tell.” It was the all knowing and smug tone that really bristled Keith’s feathers. He could feel the sneer spreading unconsciously across his face. 

“As if.”

Keith could hear the blatant hatred in Lance’s voice when the other haughtily said “I feel like they made a mistake when they chose you to come here.”

“Believe me, I could  _ not  _ agree more.”

Conversation continued in this manner for what felt like a very long period of time, both of them firing back insults at a rapid pace and saying things that probably wouldn’t do them any favors when the show aired. 

Keith was only  _ slightly  _ worried that he would be trending on Twitter for general assholery. 

Before long there was a very loud buzzer noise signifying that their time was up, and so Keith angrily stood up and stomped loudly to the door (a little upset once he realized that his stomping would not carry over to the other room).

“Ta ta for now, dearest!” Lance called out as Keith walked away. 

“Go fuck yourself!” He called back, slamming the door and walking out of the pods considerably more grumpy then he had when he had first entered. 

_ There's your drama,  _ Keith thought bitterly, his mood now the equivalent of his mood the night after taking on this role when he had decided to binge watch episodes of the Bachelor (aka a combination of intense anger, irritation, and incredulity). 

While Keith had initially started out his little petty fight with Lance with the sole intention of avoiding homophobia (he swears) Lance had clearly gotten deep under Keith’s skin and Keith was a little annoyed that he wasn’t impervious to it like he had thought himself to be. He went from being bored on the couch to laughing at the other’s indignation all while laying back on the pillows, to sitting cross legged right in front of the screen and nearly shouting at it. Something about Lance just sparked something deep within Keith. 

Logically, Keith knew that most if it was his fault, he had gone in with the intention to anger after all but he just wanted to create an awkward air, make himself so dislikable that whoever was across the screen would simply never put him on a list of “want to talk to again” and would hopefully back off and spend the next 30 minutes in silence. 

Unfortunately, Lance had apparently not gotten the memo and thus refused to take his attitude lying down. 

Within mere minutes, the two had been at each other’s throats, so uncivil that Keith completely forgot he was a girl. Evidently, Lance apparently didn’t care at all about gender and traditional male-female behavior considering he clearly had zero issues talking absolute shit regardless of Keith being a “girl”. 

2021: when men and women are equal enough to talk to each other like strangers in the Youtube comment section. 

Or maybe Lance was just that angry and perhaps was distracted by the voice modifier and not seeing any sort of face helped. 

Regardless of why, Keith walked out completely sure that he could have had no worse experience and decided to  _ slightly  _ modify his behavior. He really didn’t want to go the next couple of months with increasingly hostile interactions every day. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t help. 

* * *

_ “I hate Kira. I genuinely really dislike her, it felt like she was purposefully trying to be a jerk and be difficult. Why come to this show if you aren’t even going to try to get along with people much less fall in love?” _

* * *

Keith had never been one to spare others his judgement, and he wasn’t nearly nice enough or extroverted enough to give people the benefit of the doubt. Besides, he felt justified enough to judge people based on each person’s half hour, all of which ended up being the worst conversations he had ever had in his life, so he wasn’t feeling too generous and was thus free to say that most people on this ridiculous show fucking sucked. 

After Lance, Keith had hoped for a nice casual conversation. Maybe a “what’s your favorite color” or “what do you do for a living”. 

Instead he had been greeted with one man who had possibly the worst pick up lines ever. 

And there were multiple. Keith was about 90% sure that the man had prepared them in advance considering the way he just kept listing them, barely letting Keith get a single word in and clearly  _ clearly  _ way too cocky for his own good. 

Keith could just  _ hear  _ the self satisfied smirk adorning the other’s probably ugly, wide and square face (he was really annoyed okay). 

By the end of his fifth date of the day, Keith was beginning to have  _ major major  _ regrets. Namely, Keith actually missed Lance. Though he had been massively annoying, easily pissed off and they had thoroughly disliked one another, at least he hadn’t asked Keith for his cup size (Lubos his third date) or been the most boring motherfucker on the planet (the dude was an accountant too so he wasn’t doing anything to help counter that stereotype). 

Finally, it was time for his sixth date and Keith was feeling pretty pessimistic so when he walked in and was jolted from shock because of the booming fake scratchy voice, Keith just groaned. 

“Heyo,” called the voice, fairly monotone and almost tired sounding. 

“Hey,” Keith just replied back, always annoyed with the greeting parts of these “interviews” because how do you respond to “hello”.

“Rough day?”

“Ugh,” Keith groaned. “It’s only been a day?”

The person on the other side laughed, the laugh very raspy which meant the other was most likely quietly chuckling (Keith was getting better and better at discerning the voice patterns). 

“Knowing that batch there, I am really not surprised it hasn’t gone over well,” the voice drawled, not unkindly but amusedly and easy going. 

It was a breath of fresh air.

No fuck that, it was a breath of fresh air in a world that was literally on fire and covered in smoke. 

“Some of them are just so…  _ ugh?  _ You know what I mean?” Feeling more comfortable and wanting this atmosphere to continue, Keith decided to help the conversation along. “Have any luck yourself?”

There was a light hum on the other side of the wall. “Nothing exciting to write home about. Kinda what I expected, you feel?”

“Ah,” Keith replied quite eloquently. “That's rough.”

“I like you though, man,” the dude said, Keith involuntarily blushing at the straightforward and blunt comment. “Seems like you’re one of the only people without some agenda who can just chill.”

If only he knew. 

“Same to you,” Keith said, instead of spilling out an angry rant about how he actually had an agenda but was too tired to continue with it. 

“Like the last lady, man”—there was a sigh—“I am pretty sure she just spent our half an hour advertising her etsy shop.”

Keith barked out a laugh. “I see you and I raise you an entire thirty minutes about the purchasing of his car. I thought by the end something interesting was going to happen like he was going to crash it the first day, but nope. It was just him. Buying a car.”

That same laugh came once again from the other side. “Fuck, there go all my stories. By the way dude, the name’s Rolo.”

“Kira.”

A low whistle came from across the aisle, “you got a pretty name.”

“Don't think I’ve ever heard that one before,” Keith said amused, thinking about his own name which was a far cry from pretty. 

“Should I tack on a ‘I bet your face is just as pretty’ for good measure?”

Keith pretended to ponder on it, hmming, “that might be a good move on your part.”

The two of them dissolved into light chuckles again, Keith feeling the tension drain from his bones and reclining on the couch, almost allowing himself to finally relax and close his eyes, the tiredness that always accompanied social interaction seeping into his bones. 

Keith yawned. 

“Boring you, huh?”

“Believe me,” Keith reassured, waving his hand at the screen even though no one could see it. “That is a good thing.”

Now it was Rolo’s turn to yawn, the end tapering off into that small laugh that always comes when two people yawn in succession. 

“There you go,” Keith grinned lazily, “I’ll take that as a compliment there.”

“I have a feeling this is the beginning of a lovely friendship,” Rolo said.

Keith could only hum as he felt his eyelids grow heavy and he turned on his side. 

Rolo said something again, but it was lost on Keith who, as it so happened, had managed to fall asleep, completely worn out and spent after 3 hours of exhausting and tedious conversation. 

When the buzzer went off, signaling the end of their time, Keith drowsily woke up from his spot on the couch, his eyes blinking open. He was disoriented for a little bit, the sleep not quite deep enough to completely refresh him but just enough to make him wonder where he was for a couple of long seconds. 

Rolo seemed to be doing the same, a loud yawn coming from his side that signaled that he too had either been napping or simply closing his eyes and relaxing. Thankfully he didn’t seem at all ticked off that Keith had spent their entire session sleeping. 

“So we both conked out there,” Rolo commented, the amusement in his voice plain and undisguised. The modified voice was even raspier now that it was post sleep. 

“Apparently,” was all Keith managed to say. 

There was a little bit of mutual laughing as they both realized they had actually managed to fall asleep while on camera, before the chuckles subsided and they realized that it was their cue to leave, the long day  _ finally  _ over. 

“Stay chill, Kira,” Rolo said as he left, his words of parting somehow not sounding insanely cringe when it came from him. 

“You too, Rolo,” Keith replied before stretching his arms out and leaving the pod, the door snapping shut soundly.

* * *

“ _ Did I just fall asleep on reality television? Where I am supposed to be pretending to be a girl? I think I need a nap.” _

* * *

Lance had  _ not  _ had a good day. He was well aware that everyone, even his best friends were fairly optimistic for his time on the show, considering Lance was a well known flirt, easy conversationalist and generally friendly person who never had much difficulty charming people with his charisma and easy laughs. 

Lance was likable, and while that had never found him a lasting partner nor had it ever saved him from those poisonous bouts of insecurity that haunted him at night as he constantly wondered if he really was going to end up alone when all he really wanted was someone to love and someone who loved him, it was just a fact. Lance was likable, the sky was blue, Cowboy Bebop’s dub was better than its sub. 

Fact. 

But even with his people skills and his social nature, Lance was nothing but pessimistic when it came to dating shows. They were fun to watch, for sure, and he would never tire of binging them with Pidge, but being on the show was most certainly not worth his “behind the scene photoshoot”. Being a member of the show was an entirely different thing than watching it, and his entire day had completely reinforced this idea. 

Most of his “dates” had been very bad or very bland. 

There were a couple of girls who seemed nice enough but with Lance’s disillusionment in the process, his general annoyance which had carried over from the first conversation and the complete lack of any sort of sparks, he could not bring himself to flirt or remain hopeful that he would find “the one”. 

Besides, there was the whole thing about his sexuality. 

Lance had been lucky enough to have a super supportive set of family and friends, and generally his bisexuality was more of an advantage than a hindrance, especially when he learned to drown out the voices of homophobes. 

He was never quiet about his preferences which was why not mentioning it now was very worrying. He felt like in every conversation there was the possibility that no matter how well they got along once they found out it could end in a second. 

Especially since the people on this show, reality television people, were generally accepting when it came to Instagram trends but not their own boyfriends. 

His sexuality put aside, the last five conversations he had had were intensely boring, probably because of Lance’s own lack of interest and effort. He felt bad and had tried to remain his normal charming self, but he couldn’t convince himself and was forced to admit that none of the five other girls had quite managed to capture his attention. 

Maybe he was more appearance oriented than he had thought. 

Or maybe these people just weren’t for him. 

But no matter how long one girl went on about loving her family, or how many times another mentioned that she would pray for him when he admitted that no he was not religious and no he was not waiting till marriage, no one could get a rise out of him like Kira had. 

While she hasn’t been nearly as condescending as the makeshift preacher, she had been far more antagonistic and entirely more interesting. 

At first, she had just seemed like an unfriendly woman who would ask to speak to the manager while prattling on about made up rights and laws. But once their argument had gotten somewhat more intense and personal, she had become something entirely else.

Now Lance was not trying to make any sort of stereotypical assumptions, but he had never had such a conversation with a woman. Generally, he would have been quite scared to say stuff like “shove it up your ass” to a girl because of sexual harassment or to anyone actually because of general politeness. But whether it was because he was behind a wall, or he just hated Kira so intensely, or because the voice  _ did  _ make it easier to be angry at (he was not lying about that), he had found himself saying some very rude things. 

He felt a little chagrined at his own behavior, but over all he was not feeling as bad as he probably should have because Kira really was just so infuriating. She made him want to rip his hair out and become completely gay. 

He did regret some of his comments, most specifically the ones centered around the term “ass” but thankfully Kira hadn’t seemed to care all that much. With someone else it really could have been taken the wrong way and if there was one thing that was good about Kira it was that she seemed to be fairly loose and accepting with her language. 

But Lance still hated her, don’t get him wrong. 

She was blunt and rude, inconsiderate and irritating, and Lance was most certainly  _ not  _ looking forward to their next session. 

When Hunk asked how his time in the pods had gone, Lance could only groan tiredly and collapse on his friend before dramatically beginning to narrate every single one of his interactions, spending nearly 30 minutes just recollecting what he and Kira had said to one another. When he had finally calmed down enough, and Hunk was seemingly horrified at how Kira and Lance had spoken (he was very worried Lance would be out of a job once the conversation aired but Lance assured him that he had strong connections and a couple of contracts that would prevent this otherwise he would have refused to come on the show), he had begged Hunk to hear about his day. 

Lance had fallen asleep to the sound of his best friend's voice, silently wondering to himself what Kira  _ really _ sounded and looked like. 

* * *

_ “Kira seemed pretty chill, it was nice not needing to worry about false pretenses or having to be someone I’m not. She feels like someone I could smoke with.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i felt weird finalizing the dialogue in this convo cuz while i dont really have issues with the way they speak im like so scared other ppl will? its so hard writing a story mocking so many things while also being worried that im making some deep personal offense? u know wat i mean?
> 
> ik lance in this story is a bit rude- but lets face it he has never really had an issue speaking out to ppl who diss him like that boy has hated so many ppl and for wat- hes judgmental, dramatic, hilarious, he always has an insult on the tip of his tongue and i adore him
> 
> obvi some of keith's dialogue is stuff he wldnt ever say, but remember the poor boy is trying to work for the greater good! also hes such a sarcastic sass master in the show? hes socially awkward yeah but keef is so witty and hes not an anxiety ridden recluse, hes just quiet
> 
> plus with lance he always has a snappy line and hes even a bit flirty (that will come later) so u can fight (jk... kinda...)
> 
> as always i will see u in far longer than it should be, but i answer comments in like five mins so lmk wat u think! 
> 
> coming up next: the chapter in which lance and keith find it hard to dislike one another as much as they dislike everyone else

**Author's Note:**

> my updates r sporadic, esp since im applying to college rn and ive got a bunch of diff fics running, but i dont like leaving things unfinished so don't worry too much lol  
> comments and kudos are appreciated!  
> [my tumblr :)](http://keefbaku.tumblr.com/)


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